


Forget Nothing and Think Many Things Of It

by wintersky (orphan_account)



Category: Sherlock (TV), Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Welcome to Night Vale, Crossover, Episode: e015 Street Cleaning Day, Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-08
Updated: 2013-08-08
Packaged: 2017-12-22 19:36:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/917257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/wintersky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is the voice of Night Vale Community Radio. Sherlock is a scientist with perfect, perfect hair.<br/>Add a little strawberry pie and you've got a match made in Night Vale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forget Nothing and Think Many Things Of It

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Ничего не забывайте и думайте об этом как можно больше](https://archiveofourown.org/works/954171) by [opium_smoker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/opium_smoker/pseuds/opium_smoker), [raveness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raveness/pseuds/raveness)



> Suffice it to say, I couldn't sleep and decided to listen to some more WTNV. (Cecil's voice is incredibly soothing).  
> I started shipping Cecilos _really, really hard,_ and then suddenly realized- _somebody else_ is (kind of) a scientist with perfect, perfect hair.
> 
> My headcanon for this fic is that John is American, born and raised in Night Vale, and Sherlock is still English. Do with that what you will.
> 
> And now **:** I apologize. I really do.

*******

"The City Council arrives, back from their long-planned Miami vacation, nudging those near them and talking about the silver sand beaches and the _food **:**_  oh, those Cubans know how to do it."  
John, inside the clear-walled recording booth of Night Vale Community Radio, looks up at the sound of the studio door opening. He sees Molly the intern standing there, followed by a certain tall, dark scientist with perfect, perfect hair. His heart gives a leap.  
  
John continues, pushing his glasses up his nose:  
"Even they are accepted into the gathering, despite our usual fears, and we grip them too, as friends."  
  
John nods to dismiss Molly. He grins widely at Sherlock and gives a wave through the window **;** Sherlock gives a small wave back, smiling hesitantly in return.  
  
"Night has arrived, ladies. Night is here, gentlemen," John says, his voice soothing. "Night falls on our weary bodies, and night falls on you, too. You too have survived- survived everything up to this moment."  
He looks Sherlock in the eyes as he finishes  
"Grip tight. Hum. Laugh. Cry. Forget nothing and think _many_   things of it.  
Goodnight. Goodnight, goodnight."  
  
John waits until the show's ending music has finished, and then presses the red Off Air button, removes his headphones and switches off the microphone.  
He gets up from his stool and stretches. John organizes his papers and stuffs them in to his messenger bag, then dumps his empty paper coffee cup in the trash.  
 _Molly makes excellent coffee_ , he thinks appreciatively. He hopes she doesn't get killed under strange and horrifying circumstances, as most interns seem to.  
  
John switches off the lights of the recording booth and then takes a deep breath and steps out into the studio.

He smiles again at Sherlock, waiting patiently, and says "Hi."  
His voice comes out far higher and more nervous-sounding than he'd meant it to.

_Shit._

"Hello, John. Good show tonight," Sherlock replies.

"Did you- really think so? Really?" John says- or, perhaps more accurately, squeaks. His palms start to sweat and he fiddles with the leather strap of his bag.  
  
 _Play it cool, John! Play it cool!_  
  
Sherlock nods. "Absolutely."  
  
John beams. His tattoos dance excitedly, exposed by the rolled-up sleeves of his sweater; he looks down at them and blushes, pulling his sleeves down in embarrassment. Sherlock follows his gaze and gives a slight smile.  
  
John says quickly,  
"So, ah, Sherlock- any...particular...reason you dropped by tonight?"  
  
Sherlock shrugs. "I was merely wondering as to whether you might care to join me for a slice of strawberry pie."  
  
John's heart skips a beat.  
  
 _Say something smooth! Go!_  
  
"Well, I, ah- you- and pie- I can't imagine anything better," he says in a rush. He sighs inwardly.  
  
 _You tried._

Sherlock raises an eyebrow, amused.  
"Is that a yes, then?"  
  
John nods rapidly, his pulse going a mile an hour. He feels his tattoos wriggle pleasantly under his sweater, and he smiles.

"Oh, God, yes."

*******


End file.
